This Lullaby
by Kchan88
Summary: Young Raoul comforts a grieving Christine after her father dies, the night before she leaves for the Opera. A song fic set to the lyrics of Emmy Rossum's "This Lullaby." ALW Musical based with hints of Leroux. An R/C one-shot


This Lullaby

A/N: So I was listening to the beautiful song by Emmy Rossum, "This Lullaby" and was inspired to write this one shot about Raoul comforting Christine after her father's death. It's based mostly on the ALW stage show (not the movie, as for whatever reason, they chose to make her father die when she was 7, which isn't the way it was in the stage show or Leroux. Love the movie, but didn't like that detail) anyways, it's also got hints of Leroux in it, which I'm sure you'll recognize. Christine is 13 here, and Raoul is 14. I hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I don't own Phantom, neither do I own the lyrics to this song. Those belong to the lovely Emmy.

"Christine?" I asked softly, knocking on the door of the guest bedroom she was staying in at my Aunt Claire's seaside home. Her home had been shut up mere days after her father had died, and as she had nowwhere to go until she left for Paris tomorrow, my aunt had kindly offered to let her stay with us. She'd always had a soft spot for Christine, and for my close friendship with her.

I heart the rustling of sheets, sniffles punctuating the room as she sat up in bed.

"Raoul?" she asked. I could scarcely see her she kept it so dark inside.

"It's me," I answered. "Can I come in?"

"Of course," she said. "Please."

"Would you like me to turn the light on? It's a bit difficult to see you..."

"Oh of course," she said, reaching over to switch the lamp. She wiped her eyes, but there was no hiding the fact that she'd been crying for hours. The funeral had been only yesterday, and she'd barely made it through. Her light blue eyes were red rimmed and puffy.

I sat down gingerly on the side of the bed, putting my hand gently on top of hers, causing us both to blush a bit.

"I just wanted to come and see about you," I said, wishing I could help her, wishing I could take away her pain. "But if you'd like to be alone..."

"No!" she exclaimed, squeezing my hand a little. "Please, stay for a while. You're really the only person I can talk to you about this, you know. You loved my father too."

"I did," I said, feeling tears of my own coming on, but holding them back for my friend's sake. "Very much."

I looked at Christine's face once more, hating to see her so sad. But she had every right; she'd been so close to her father, and she hadn't expected to lose him so soon, especially not at thirteen.

_Laying alone with the history that made you/Cold and uncertain inside/Well careful now, deep breath/The water's still rising/But your silver linings inside_

"But you know how I feel," she continued, chocolate curls spilling over her shoulders as she looked down at the comforter, tears stinging her eyes once again. "You've lost both your parents too."

"We do have that in common," I agreed. It was yet another link that deepened our friendship, albeit a tragic one. "I never did know my mother because she died so soon after I was born, and it was very hard for me when my father died these few years ago, as you know. I do feel extremely sad about it sometimes, but I still have Phillipe and my sisters."

"Yes," she said, "You do still have them.".

_And I have no one_, I knew she wanted to say.

She'd been so very close to her father; they'd been each other's world, and Gustav Daae, in my opinion was one of the most wonderful fathers I'd ever come across. I might have only been 14, but I knew a good father when I saw one, especially when Gustav treated me like the son he'd never had.

"You have me," I said, leaning closer to her, and meeting her gaze. "You will _always_ have me, though I know we're going to be parted for a while." I needed her to know I was there for her.

"Oh Raoul," she said, a sob escaping her small frame. "You're the most wonderful friend! An angel!" At this, she broke down, hardly able to breath for crying.

I reached out my arms to her and pulled her close into a warm embrace, rubbing my hand up and down her back in comfort. I knew if any adults walked in, they might deem it as improprietous for two young adolescents of the opposite sex to be so close like this, but I honestly couldn't have cared less. My best friend had just had her world shattered, and I would be there for her. Her head rested on my shoulder, tears flowing onto my jacket.

_When you feel like you're breaking down/And ya, your body's just giving in/And ya, you can't go on broken like this any longer/Close your eyes, don't you cry/Let the sorrow within you subside/Don't despair, have no fear/Give your way to me when you hear/This lullaby_

"I just miss him so much Raoul," she whispered. Her heart pounded so hard I could feel it. "And it's only been a few days! I don't know how to go on without him. And now I'm going to the Opera house with Madame Giry in the morning. I know she's father's friend, but I've never met her, and I'm scared to go to this strange new place. I'm so alone."

"I know you feel that way," I said, hugging her tighter. "But your father is always with you. He loved you so, Christine. And you'll be studying music, the singing you so love. And I promise I'm here too. We'll write all the time."

"Really?" she said, pulling back a little and looking at me.

"Of course," I said, wiping one of the stray tears away from her face with my thumb. "You're my best friend Christine. Even if we're apart we're still with each other. Your father taught me that lesson once, when I was feeling sad about my own parents. In story form, of course."

Christine smiled at this. We'd always loved Gustav's stories, both being the dreamers we were. Indeed, Christine had coped during her father's illness with us reading the stories of his native Sweden to each other that her father had read to us time and again, as we tended to his bedside.

"I so loved his stories," she said. "I wonder if anyone at the opera will like stories?"

"Didn't you say Madame Giry has a daughter?" I asked. "Perhaps she will."

"Yes, Meg is her name. Perhaps we'll be good friends."

"I would bet on it,"I said, smiling at her.

"But you'll always be my best friend, Raoul," she said seriously. "Don't forget that. Don't go about replacing me." At this, she gave soft chuckle, the first one I'd heard in days, and it made my heart lift a little. I hated seeing her so broken hearted.

"I'm insulted," I said, teasing her lightly. "How could you ever think I'd forget you?"

"I didn't, really," she said, leaning back into me, and I put my arms around her once again. "I certainly know I won't forget you."

_You say all seems so wrong with the life that you're living/You're searching for some reason why/You're so scared to trust,you're feeling unworthy/Aching for comfort tonight_

"Do you think he's in Heaven, Raoul?" she asked. "Watching us?"

"He's your guardian angel," I said. "Anyone who plays the violin like that certainly deserves to be an angel."

"Yes," she said, burying her head further into my chest, trembling.

"And when you sing at the Opera, sing for him. He'd like that. You have such a beautiful voice Christine, truly. I bet you'll be the next star, when you're a little older."

At this she looked up again, hands grasping my wrists as if she were holding on for dear life, her eyes pools of sorrow.

"I don't think I'm that talented..."

"But you are!" I said. "Your voice is like something from Heaven. So whenver you feel sad, just sing a song for your father. I know that won't make all the hurt go away, but it might help. He so loved to hear you sing."

"He did, didn't he?" she said.

_When you're heart's too sore too beat/And ya, you fear it might never heal/And ya, you feel like not even beggars want you, I do/Close your eyes, don't you cry, Let the sorrow within you subside/Don't despair, have no fear/Give your way to me when you hear/This lullaby_

After this, silence fell between us, and I held Christine, this time the tears spiiling from my own eyes, both from witnessing the heartwreching pain that tortured my friend, and for my own loss of a man that had been a mentor to me, as well as my violin teacher. After a while we slid out of each other's embrace, looking into each other's faces. I couldn't help but notice how lovely Christine was, even when she'd been crying for hours. Suddenly, she moved her face closer to mine. Before I knew quite what was happening, she brushed her lips so lightly against mine that I might have imagined it. I realized my eyes had widened slightly, but quickly closed them and kissed her back as if she were a piece of china, easily breakable. It was swift and chaste. We jumped apart, both blushing furiously.

"Raoul," said Christine, breaking the silence after a solid minute, but still unable to quite meet my eye. "I'm afraid to be alone. I've had so many frightening nightmares about Papa."

"I don't want you to be afraid," I said, finally regaining my powers of speech. "Because you'll need a good night's rest for your journey to Paris tomorrow. I'll sleep on the chaise lounge over there," I said, pointing to said piece of furniture a few feet away from the bed, situated by the window. "That way if you need me, I'll be here."

"But won't..."

"I don't care if it isn't proper. You need me. And that's all that matters."

"But you don't have to," she protested.

I want to," I said.

She smiled, and kissed my cheek like she had the day I'd rescued her scarf all that time ago.

"Thank you," she said, crawling under the covers. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," I said, taking a few blankets from under the bed and laying down on the chaise lounge, running a hand through my mop of blonde hair which ever found itself in my eyes when I slept. "If you wake up and I'm asleep, please wake me."

"I will," she said, a fleeting smile crossing her features. "I promise."

With that she closed her eyes and I watched as she fell asleep, thinking about how much I would miss her. I loved her dearly as my best friend, but although I didn't know much about romantic love yet, I was quite sure those feelings were blossoming. I'd thought more than once about what Christine would look like in a white wedding dress, standing before me at the altar. I couldn't quite believe we'd kissed, but it had made my heart soar. For now though, I concentrated on comforting my friend. She looked so peaceful as she slept, but I guessed that probably wouldn't last all night. But I'd be there for her. I always would.

_Don't you cry/Let the darkness within you feel alive/Don't despair, have no fear/ You'll find comfort in me like a child with this lullaby_

A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed!


End file.
